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“Well it’s Sunday, so I figured Sunday dinner was in order. Ma never had a chance to teach me, but the diner does it from time to time and figured I’d just take what I remembered and piece it together. Got ‘taters and chicken with all the fixin’s, with apple pie for dessert.”
“Sounds fuckin’ awesome,” he said in that gruff, crass voice of his. Though he looked impressed as he soaked it in before headin’ off. “Gonna go clean up more seriously since yer puttin’ in all this effort.”
Britney smiled as she put down the plates, filling their glasses up and putting the napkins beside the utensils. It all looked rather pretty, she thought. Like somethin’ a real family would do.
It kind of made her regret the fact that he was plannin’ on selling the farm. Not like she could run it all on her lonesome, and she’d never found a man she’d been interested in. Oh, sure, they’d flirt with her at the diner and make her blush, but she’d never felt a pull towards any one of ‘em.
When Damien returned to the table, he was dressed in jeans and a nice shirt. Nothin’ too classy, but downright respectable. Almost wiped away some of the bad boy look. Or well… not quite. Sure, it hid the tattoos on his muscles, but it couldn’t hide the hardened look of the man he’d become. Even if he did spare her a smile as he sat down.
“Smells goddamn delicious, Brit,” he said.
“You still got that mouth on you,” she replied as she gave him a more gentle smile. It was still strange for her, his softened behaviour and his much hardened look. Even if he did still cuss.
He shook his head and laughed before he dug in, and though he didn’t speak again for some time, the way he loaded up his plate with more of everything he tried, and woofed it on down spoke volumes.
“This is damn good, Brit,” he said, eyes wide, looking surprised. “When’d you learn to be such a good cook, huh?” he asked.
She laughed as her shoulders raised in a shrug.
“You’re the one that said you’d have eaten a horse, and they’re tough as leather. So maybe you just ain’t got any taste.” She was teasing, being modest, but she relished his compliments.
Damien shook his head and resumed eating, and she almost thought he was done on the issue. But he was just too wrapped up in eating her meal.
“Can’t remember the last time I ate a meal any bit close to this… if ever. Ain’t had nothin’ like this in the city, that’s for damn sure,” he said, winking to her as he bit into some potato with gravy and gave a deep, pleased moan that had to be exaggerated!
It made her laugh, and that tension she was still holdin’ between her shoulders started to fade away. She wanted to put up an argument, say he was just flatterin’ her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Not when he looked so happy, and she was feelin’ so good.
She was dying with curiosity about him, about what he’d been doing for all those years gone by without a word. She just didn’t know how to bring it up.
Luckily with the lighter atmosphere, the sombre occasion slowly faded into a dull ache rather than a full blown sorrow, she wondered if she’d soon have her chance.
* * *
Time came to go meet the lawyer, and Damien was outside, revvin’ his motorcycle to hurry her up.
“C’mon Brit! Let’s get this done with,” he said.
Though honestly, the days they’d spent together on the farm weren’t something she was eager to get over with, and she’d tried putting it off. But Damien was a demandin’ man, and when he had his mind set to something; he got it.
“Coming!” she said, hurrying on down to hop on the back of his motorcycle and clinging to him.
He had his leather jacket on again, that suit only worn for the funeral itself. It wasn’t somethin’ Damien was fond of, that was easy to tell. But that rugged look made him more comfortin’ to wrap her arms about. Like she could count on him in any kind of rough situation.
Before long they arrived at the lawyer’s office, which was really just an add-on to the man’s family house. It was a laid back place, with a mess of papers everywhere.
“Come on in, you two,” he said, smiling comfortingly. “Can I get ya both anythin
’?”
“Nah,” Damien shook his head, and Britney smiled and declined politely.
“So then, let’s all take a seat and get down to it, shall we?” he said.
“Sounds good,” Britney said, seating herself in her dress.
“What did pa have to say then?” Damien asked, anxious to get it on with.
“Well,” the lawyer said, slowly seating himself, “your pa loved you both very much. But then, you don’t need me to tell you that.” He looked between them with a warm smile. “And the farm goes back in his family for… generations. And that was somethin’ he hoped to see continue.”
